


It takes two

by yellow_owl



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 00:35:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19712719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellow_owl/pseuds/yellow_owl
Summary: A short story in which Aziraphale and Crowley do two improbable things: play a drinking game and dance tango. But then, after an apocalypse that was not, what really is improbable?





	It takes two

The late summer night was hugging London, as only summer nights can: it was inky-blue, and warm, and lit up with streetlamps and shop windows. The Ritz was nearing its peak occupancy rate, the ding of cutlery and conversation getting a bit too loud.

\- So, what are you in the mood for now? - Crowley asked, as he waived to the waiter for the check.

\- I am in the mood for a stroll to my bookshop and some more excellent wine.

\- Sounds good to me!

As they started walking towards the bookshop, Aziraphale turned round and practically announced:

\- Oh, and I want to play a game! - the angel was beaming, but not just in a peaceful content way. No, this time there seemed to be a twinkle of mischief in his bright blue eyes, and Crowley wondered when it got there. He has seen it only once or twice before in all the six thousand years, if at all.

\- A game?

\- Yes, but I think you are going to like it. It is a drinking game.

Crowley's mouth fell open, Aziraphale was clearly on the roll, and it was not like they even had that much to drink. The evening was getting more interesting by the minute.

Aziraphale got the wine and the glasses out and poured them both a generous amount of white. Crowley watched him from the armchair, expectation pooling in him like melted ice cream.

\- So, as far as I remember, for the game we need a bottle, and we are going to be rotating it, and whoever the neck is pointing to needs to say a truth or do a dare! - Aziraphale carefully set the bottle on the floor between their feet.

\- Mm, excellent plan, Angel. I hate to break it to you, but with just the two of us here, this is not really going to work. But I like the truth or dare bit.

\- Well, can we just take turns then? But still spin the bottle? It just seems that the game would not be the same without that.

\- Sure, be my guest! - Aziraphale was grinning with so much happiness, the demon could not help himself and smiled too.

\- OK, ok, soooo, who goes first?

\- You do. Go on, spin it!

The green bottle spinned with a characteristic sound of an empty glass vessel on the wooden floor.

\- So, truth or dare? – Asked Crowley.

\- Dare. But let us start small, OK? The night is young, and all that.

\- Fine. Take that bow tie off. No offence, but I do not think anyone can relax in its sharp presence.

The angel pulled at the bow tie and it unfolded in his fingers. He even opened the top button of his shirt.

\- Now you, truth or dare?

\- Ah, go on then. Dare.

\- Take off your glasses. I want to see your eyes.

\- Really? I thought you are not a fan of... You know, the serpent part of me. – he placed them on the table.

\- I go next. Truth: I like your eyes. Always have... You know, I have never seen anyone else with eyes like that, it is just you. – Aziraphale tailed off, blush creeping up his cheeks and took a sip.

\- Why thank you, Angel. – Crowley sent a genuinely warm smile at Aziraphale. – Right, OK then. I’ll do a Truth too. Anything you want a truthful answer to?

\- What did you make of it? The, uh, the Upstairs. It's been a while since you've been!

\- Ah that... Well, you have redecorated, understandably. Can't say I like the style, bit too corporate. But the view is good, I'll give you that.

\- Gabriel's influence all over that. I never understood what good he saw in it. I mean, there is light and that is good, and companionship of the open space, but... Well, we now know architecture alone does not just make the place!

\- It's all about the people, could have told you that millennia ago.

\- It is an office stuffed with angels, you'd think...

\- Nah, their heart is not in it, so it really is just an empty space. But I might have a screwed view, I do not think the hosts were particularly keen to make me feel comfortable. - Crowley was very well aware of how the place feels when an angel pours his heart into it and he was damn sure that large white hall was not such a place.

\- Yeah... - Aziraphale made a deep happy sigh, that made it clear just how glad he was that entire ordeal was over.

Crowley spinned the bottle, not that he needed to, but just for the fun of it – the sound of it was indeed quite pleasant.

\- I’ll do a Truth too. What would you like to know? – Aziraphale stretched his feet out, his posture becoming another bit more relaxed.

\- What did you think of the Downstairs then? Was it as you imagined it?

\- It is rather grim, and oddly set up. I mean, everyone is watching everyone.

\- Well, that's demons for you. Can't trust 'em! Do you know how much I hated working with Hastur? The guy is pure evil, in its nastiest form. With 'friends' like that (Crowley made explicit air quotes for Aziraphale's benefit, the angel was not the most perceptive to sarcasm after all), who needs enemies?!

\- Not like we're much better. Michael is a right bastard, and Gabriel is a bit of a bully if I'm honest. Never liked them...

\- Why did you hang out with them then?

\- I didn't. I hang out with you!

\- No, I mean before... Before there were two sides.

\- Well, I did not 'hang out' with them then either. I did not hang out with anyone. I was just, you know, doing as I was told.

\- Mm... You know what the best part of being a demon is?

\- What?

\- You are allowed to misbehave. Expected to even, part of the job description. Does that count as a Truth? – Crowley grinned and held Aziraphale’s gaze.

\- Demons misbehaving?! What a revelation! No, dear, you are going to have to do better then this!

\- OK, you do have a point, - chuckled Crowley. – Go on then, I can see you had a question in mind.

\- Well, speaking of misbehaving... Was there a ‘good deed’ you enjoyed most?

\- I would not say, enjoyed per se... But I did enjoy managing to present it as an achievement to my side.

\- Was it one of those occasions covered by the Arrangement?! – Aziraphale was horrified, if his blessings were used to...

\- No, not really. I never told you about it actually. Remember Noah and his travelling zoo?

A look of pain crossed the Angel’s face.

\- Yes. One of those things that still haunt me sometimes...

\- I saved the children.

\- YOU WHAT?!

\- Well you said Australia, Americas and China were safe, so I, er, sent them there.

\- Oh my... You risked your life to... To... – tears were starting to gather in Aziraphale’s eyes and the first one of them was already making its way down his face.

\- And that is why I never told you about this. See, it is one thing to misbehave and twist and turn events and reasoning for your deeds as it suits you, and quite another to have an angel praising you for it. The first is tricky but if you do it right, it plays to your advantage, while the second one is just plain asking for trouble.

\- But how... How did you justify it to them?!

\- It is just statistics, really. Drowned innocent children – that is scores upon scores of souls going straight to Heaven. Let them grow and make their choices though... People sin on their own accord, given time, you know. So I gave them time to make choices, and instead of the planned 100% your lot only got, ah... Less then 50%, I believe.

\- Oh, Crowley... – Aziraphale was still sniffing, but seemed to be gradually pulling himself together... – you... You wicked demon!

\- Now that is much better. Only took you six fucking thousand years to figure out how to do it right! OK, now, my turn to ask! Truth or dare? Also, more wine?

\- Truth. And yes, please!

Crowley stood up and poured generous portions into their glasses. He came over to the sofa where Aziraphale was sitting and landed right next to him. The bottle was no longer between them, but Crowley just wanted to be a bit closer, in case the Angel would decide to cry again.

\- Sooo, tell me truly, was there ever a temptation you enjoyed? – he cocked a suggestive eyebrow just as he was passing the glass. The Angel laughed.

\- Yes, there was, actually!

\- Detailsssss, I want detailssss!!! – Crowley always hissed a bit when excitement or any other strong emotion overcame him.

\- Why, it was ME tempting YOU to oysters, of course! Remember that evening in Rome? We had so much fun!

\- Now that is just unfair!

\- But I did tempt you! And it was nothing dangerous for either of us, so it was really just fun. Not many temptations are like that, are they?

Crowley laughed. It was almost impossible to be annoyed at Aziraphale this evening.

... The game proved more fun then either of them had expected. Five hours later they were still at it, only somehow Aziraphale was in his pyjamas and Crowley had a book balancing on his head (one of Adam’s recent additions, of course. No need to risk any of the more fragile specimens of the collection). The number of discarded bottles by the door looked like a small army.

\- Right, right, I pick a dare! What is it to be my dear?

\- Ooooh, let’s go dancing!

It was as if someone bust the balloon Aziraphale was floating on. His smile faded and he looked at his hands.

\- Angels don’t dance.

\- Bollocks! You do! I knooooow you do!

\- Not anymore. I only knew how to do the gavotte, but everyone who knew how to do it died 120 years ago! So...

\- So learn a new dance then.

\- Oh, I don’t know... My body is not made for dancing anyway.

\- Everybody, every-body is made for dancing. It is good for you! You need to move and loosen up a bit more. We can swap again and I’ll show you!

\- No, no, I believe you...

\- So, what do you want me to teach you?

\- Hang on. Who said you are teaching me? And are you actually good at dancing?

\- I am good at what I enjoy. And I really, really enjoy dancing. So go on, pick a dance. We do not even have to go out, if you want. I will just teach you. Private lessons and all that. – Crowley smiled his most seductive smile, but somehow it turned out to be a very warm, fond one instead.

\- Shall we have some more wine first?

\- You stay put, I’ll fetch it – Crowley rose to his feet quickly realising he was more drunk then he expected. Swaying quite bit, he miracled another bottle into his hands and practically flopped back onto his original spot – there, you open it. – and with that he splayed himself further along the sofa, his head landing neatly on Aziraphale’s lap.

As far as Crowley was concerned, there were distinct advantages to being that sloshed. It did marvelous things to his inhibitions for a start, and even more marvelous things to Aziraphale’s inhibitions, bringing them down to a much, much more palatable level.

\- How does one go about choosing a dance?

\- Well, we know you have a varied taste for music. But what actually makes you like one song or another?

\- I like... I like when there is a story to it. Yes, it should tell a story, really, or at least have some dialogue, a bit like a book, you know. – Aziraphale ventured after a brief pause. His hands somehow found their way into Crowley’s hair, and concentration became an increasingly difficult task for the demon.

\- Mmm, go on... – Crowley himself was not sure if he was referring to the discussion about the music Aziraphale liked or the head massage bit.

\- You know, thinking about it, I liked the gavotte not just for the fun music. I liked it... I liked it for companionship. For feeling in sync with others, seeing everyone enjoy themselves, being part of a group.

\- I see.

\- So, what do you think?

\- I think that... That I need some time to think. Besides 5am is hardly a time for a dance lesson. But, consider yourself booked for the entirety of tomorrow’s afternoon. Be at my place at 3.

\- Oh, OK then! What shall I bring?

\- Nothing, just your good self. And Angel, - Crowley looked Aziraphale straight in the eye – do not stand there ringing the bell or knocking on the door, just come in, OK?

Aziraphale nodded dazedly, and at that, Crowley was gone.

***

At 3pm sharp an Angel stood before a non-descript yet somehow obviously expensive door. He almost pressed the bell when Crowley’s words echoed in his head, so he pushed the door which did just open to his utter surprise. The flat seems to have changed since the last and only time he had been here: there was just one door out of the hallway, leading to what turned out to be a large living room.

Aziraphale’s breath got caught in his throat at the sight of what was in it. All the shades drawn, it was large, empty and dark and seemed to be lit up in sporadic colour-changing patterns. The music filled the room and seemed to flow through it in a way champagne flows through a pyramid of glasses: filling each cavity to the brim and instantly moving onwards, overflowing to the next one. And in the middle of it all was Crowley. His arms were open, as if he was dancing around someone... with someone, even, and his legs, well, his legs moved with the usual smoothness, but the movement was controlled, deliberate and so... So graceful, so beautiful. Aziraphale could watch it forever. As Crowley swayed, the angel realised that his eyes were closed, and his face was a look of grim determination and peace at the same time. The music turned and twisted and murmured, and with it Crowley turned and twisted too, melting into the rhythm, light patterns pulsing with the beat.

Aziraphale realised he has never seen Crowley dance before. Six thousand years of chats, drinks, teasing and occasional covering for each other, and yet there still were sides of Crowley that were new to him. Aziraphale wondered what else he had missed.

He stepped closer and the floor creaked (Was that wood? Aziraphale could swear it had been all concrete just a couple of days ago, yet it was undeniably a polished parquet floor now). The music stopped abruptly and Crowley’s bright yellow eyes opened to see his guest.

\- Crowley, that was... That was magnificent! I had no idea you could dance so well!

\- Well, that is what you miss when you don’t dance! Good thing we are finally going to put an end to that this evening.

\- I could never, eh, do that. I could never do it in such a divine manner...

\- Yes, you can, and you will, given time and determination. You are an ethereal being, for Heaven’s sake! Literally.

Crowley came closer, he sighed

\- I am glad you came, truth be told, I worried you would forget all about it, think it was a joke...

\- Of course I came, I promised, didn’t I?

Crowley smiled and the room corners lit up with the orange glow.

\- I have thought about what you told me and I believe I have found just the thing. I am going to teach you Argentinean Tango!

Aziraphale’s face remained blank, so Crowley ploughed on, getting more and more animated as he talked.

\- Look, it has a simple rhythm, it can be slow or fast, you only need two people to dance it. It usually does tell a story, or at least it can if you want it to. And historically it was danced by men, so it is well suited to us, uh, to us practicing.

\- Right, OK, but I must warn you I have two left feet

\- No you don’t! Remember, I have inhabited your body, so I know more about it then you think – Crowley flashed his toothiest grin at Aziraphale.

Crowley was actually a surprisingly good host when he felt like being one, not that anyone would have known that simply because there were very few beings the demon felt like hosting. One could even say there was precisely one such being. He poured a generous amount of red wine (Argentinean, of course) into the delicate glasses and as Aziraphale sipped on his, told about the birth of Tango, out of a dance of immigrants, to dance of the masses, to voyages back across the sea and into the salons and finally to something much more niche.

\- And that is where we stop talking and start dancing. Well, walking at first.

\- Walking?

\- Yes, Angel, walking. If you can walk, you can tango.

\- Funny hearing that from you!

\- Is it really?

\- Oh, well, I am just saying... You see, your way of walking is certainly most... Peculiar. Very, uh, hip-swinging, legs all over the place, isn’t it? I am not sure if... – Aziraphale tailed off. He was rapidly running out of excuses.

Crowley clicked his fingers and the music changed, getting slow, melody almost hidden behind the beats.

\- I changed the way it plays, obviously. Now you just hear the beats, you count till 8, and then start over. Come here, Angel, stand right behind me and do as I say. Oh, and you’ll need these – Crowley handed Aziraphale a pair of shoes he just pulled out of thin air. They were made of soft leather, colour of clotted cream and had a little heel. They fit the angel perfectly.

\- Thank you – muttered Aziraphale, becoming quite flustered, - they feel really comfortable! You definitely got the size right.

Crowley smiled. It felt strange to instruct the angel, to tell him what to do, how to move. Where was that line where telling Aziraphale what to do would be crossed? Is it truly a large step to ask him to walk straight, then backwards, then let his feet slide along the floor and twist his body just so, only to untwist it seconds later, and then take Crowley into an open embrace, then make that embrace a little more closed, and then some more, and then... Crowley knew he was getting carried away, letting his thoughts wander. With an effort, he pulled his attention back to the lesson.

They tango-walked forward and backward, Aziraphale wearing a deeply focused look, stepping decisively forward, extending the foot cautiously backward, just as Crowley demonstrated. They paused and drank some wine, and walked again, until Crowley started nodding more to the beats and then a smile crept into his expression.

\- See, this was not that hard, was it?

\- Well, uh, I did my best, and your instructions were very, very clear indeed!

\- Good. We can start on the basic eight after dinner then.

Aziraphale never had dinner at Crowley’s place before, and he had to admit that perhaps he missed out. For starters, he did not know that the Savoy did takeaways (until that day, the staff at the Savoy did not either). As he was finishing the desert and thought came to him, that got stuck in his head and was decidedly refusing to go away. By the time they restarted the dance practice, Aziraphale realised he simply had to ask

\- I heard somewhere that tango is a... A vertical expression of horizontal desire. Do you agree with this view? – they were standing opposite each other, Crowley was just explaining the different partner holds used in tango, when the question tumbled out of Aziraphale’s mouth.

\- How tango looks and how it feels are two very different things, Angel. If it is done right it will look passionate, yes. As for how it feels, that depends on the dancers. Does that make you uncomfortable?

\- No, not really, I was just, you know, curious. How can it feel for the dancers?

\- Divinely light, or disjointed – Crowley winced as Aziraphale accidentally stepped on his foot. - It could feel like a team sport, like a dialogue, like a game of ping pong, or – he looked straight into the blue eyes - like a shameless flirtation. It all depends on who is dancing, you know.

\- Good thing I am dancing with my best friend then! – Aziraphale gave Crowley a brave smile, as if to say that while it was not a full apology for being an oaf before the apocalypse-that-wasn’t, it was a start.

Crowley took a deep breath. He simultaneously cherished the teaching part, the conversation it inspired and wished they could just dance together.

\- I will lead, you will follow, at least for now. Don’t look down at your feet, look at me. I mean... You don’t have to look into my eyes or anything, just don’t look down. Maybe focus on this spot between my collar bones? And remember, you go where my chest goes and you bring the weight with you as you step. Ready?

Aziraphale looked at Crowley with his blue eyes, something imperceptible gleaming in them.

\- As ready as I will ever be, I suppose.

And so they danced, it was more of a shuffle really, and Aziraphale kept glancing down at his feet. He was so concentrated on them in fact, he got startled by Crowley suddenly lifting his head by the chin, catching his gaze.

\- No looking down, Angel. – Crowley’s eyes fixed him with intensity, Aziraphale rarely experienced before.

\- I am sorry, I suppose I just don’t want to step on your toes!

\- Well, if you keep looking you certainly will do exactly that. We are going to do something to make it harder to do so, though: close your eyes.

\- What?! But then, what if I, what if we bump into something?!

\- Just. Close. Your. Eyes. And if we make the hold a little tighter, it will be way easier to follow, - Crowley changed the position a little and Aziraphale could now feel the warmth of his body, their heads nearly touching - Now, focusssss on where my chest is going and you will be jussssst fine.

Aziraphale was not sure how, but he was. He was more then fine actually, he felt like he was melting in Crowley’s arms, music surrounding them, filling his entire being with thrill and joy and desire to follow where Crowley and the music lead. The angel dared to open his eyes just for a moment, looked up and realised Crowley’s eyes were closed too, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

One of the reasons why Crowley enjoyed dancing was the unity with the music. It flowed and he flowed with it, yet somehow it followed his mood too, getting faster or slower if he wanted it to. He was sure this is what ‘dancing with the music’ was, never questioning it or wondering if the experience might have been different for the mortals. In Crowley’s case the music always, always obliged, there were few beings treating it with so much adoration for quite so long. The music now was taking a faster and definitely more passionate turn, its favourite demon was on fire after all, dancing with inspiration it has never seen in him before.

Crowley knew the entire playlist he planned for this evening by heart. Yet the notes that were filling the living room now were most definitely not on it.

_I touch your lips and all at once the sparks go flying_

_Those devil lips that know so well the art of lying_

_And though I see the danger, still the flame grows higher_

_I know I must surrender to your kiss of fire_

\- Are you interfering with my playlist, Angel? – Crowley murmured into Aziraphale ear, arching his eyebrows

\- Maybe a little bit. I hope you don’t mind. I just thought ... Do you know this one?

Crowley did not reply, but he did make their embrace that bit closer as the determined voice of Georgia Gibbs went on

_Just like a torch, you set the soul within me burning_

_I must go on, I'm on this road of no returning_

_And though it burns me and it turns me into ashes_

_My whole world crashes without your kiss of fire_

\- Crowley? – Aziraphale whispered, not sure what more there was to say. Making this song say all the things he felt like saying out loud was probably the bravest thing he has done, it felt braver then pretending to be Crowley in Hell, braver then standing up to the forces of Heaven…

_I can't resist you, what good is there in trying_

_What good is there denying you're all that I desire_

\- Crowley, I’ve been waiting to tell you…

_I know that I must have your kiss although it dooms me_

_Though it consumes me, your kiss of fire_

\- Ssssssshut up Angel. – and on this Crowley’s lips closed on Aziraphale's mouth.


End file.
